It's All About the Paint
by Sir Mustapha
Summary: A rivalry between two massive paint companies reaches unforeseen proportions when a reporter, the energetic Uniqua, unwittingly gets caught in the conflict between the CEO's Mr. Austin and Mr. Tyrone. Notice: if you hate pairings, this story is for you.


It's All About the Paint

_A story by Fernie Canto_

The small door on the wooden fence opens, and the purple kangaroo walks through it. With a wave, he greets us:

"Hello! It's me, Mr. Austin, and it's a pleasure to meet you!" he says, as he walks towards the middle of the backyard. "You can call me just Austin. My secretary should be here soon, so for now, I should just introduce myself. I am the wealthy and powerful CEO of the famous paint industry, Paint-A-Roo Inc." With confidence and tranquillity, he roams the backyard, speaking in a loud and articulated voice, as if weaving his way through a speech. "I have worked _very_ hard for a long time to get where I am, and now, everyone buys and likes the paint I sell..."

He stops on his tracks, his face turning a bit sombre. "... that is, _almost_ everyone. There are still people who buy and like the paint that my _competitor_ sells. And my competitor is..." He glares at us firmly, to create a foreboding sensation: "Mr. Tyrone. He's the owner of Mooseworks Inc., and he's my only rival. But we're on the way of sorting out these matters, once and for all." He spots the yellow hippopotamus walking into the backyard. "Ah, there she is. Meet my fine secretary, Miss Tasha."

She elegantly greets him and us, respectively. "Hello, Mr. Austin! Hello, everyone!"

"Hello, Tasha," he says. "Ready to go to work?"

"I sure am," she replies, nodding.

"So, let's get going to our company headquarters right away," he says, as both of them walk towards the doors of the tall, modern looking building that materialises before them. The backyard is now an important, crowded avenue in New York, and the building displays the red logo and motif of Paint-A-Roo Inc.

"Here we are, now," Austin says. "What a fine day, this is. I feel we can get a lot done today, Tasha."

Just then, we can hear the distinctive voice of the pink figure that stumbles through the crowd towards the building, with a clipboard on her arm and a camera hanging from her neck.

"Yikes, sorry there! Excuse me, excuse me, everyone, I have a report to make! Woops, sorry, I didn't mean to step on your foot, there! Just would let me pass, here, please? I won't bother you anymore! There! Oh, hello, Mr. Austin! A photograph, please!"

Uniqua hurriedly puts the camera in position, and Austin makes a businessman-like pose. Tasha steps aside, and Uniqua takes the picture. "There! That's a nice one! Hello, Mr. Austin! Hello, Miss Tasha! So, how's business going on?"

"Oh, business is going better than ever," he says, while Uniqua scribbles away on the clipboard. "We've been expanding our markets everyday, and the new products we launched last week are doing better than we expected. Things couldn't possibly get any better."

"That's great to hear, Mr. Austin!" she says, adjusting her hat and her dress. "Any plans for the future?"

"Definitely," he goes on, while she goes on scribbling. "Our company is entering the National Campaign for Environmental Awareness, which involves adopting state-of-the-art technology to help us preserve our precious Mother Nature."

"That's brilliant!" she says. "The paper is going to love this."

Tasha steps closer to him and discreetly says, "Mr. Austin, shouldn't we be at our office right now? There's work to be done."

Austin gives a friendly chuckle. "Oh, don't you worry about that. Our dear Miss Uniqua here also has work to be done. In fact, why don't you come into my office at 2 PM? There are a lot of things for us to talk about."

"You're serious?" Uniqua asks, clearly surprised. "That'd be delightful! I've never had an opportunity like this."

"So now you have it," Austin says, with a smile. "Just be here on time!"

"I will! Don't even doubt about it!" she says, stumbling away into the distance. Tasha watches her, arms folded on her chest.

"I sometimes wonder if you don't give her too much attention," she says.

"Fine Miss Tasha," Austin replies, with elegance, "just as important as checking our sales reports and controlling expenses, is keeping a good image. You'd never guess how useful those reporters can be, at times."

She shrugs, still looking away from him.

"But anyway, let's get going! We've got work to do."

Both of them walk into the building and towards the lifts. A couple of blocks away, we reach the headquarters of Mooseworks Inc., emblazoned with the company's blue logo and colours. Going up several levels, we find ourselves inside the CEO's office. Tyrone sits before a wide, tall, sturdy desk of deep, shiny brown wood. Many papers, a fountain pen, and a computer with tree liquid crystal displays are on it, and he moves the mouse across the desk, looking at something on one of the screens. The walls have a similar brown colour to them and a distinct, sturdy wooden texture. The carpet is black and smooth, and the furniture and decoration is strangely solemn, displaying dark colours and sharp lines and curves. On the wall to Tyrone's left, there's a wide passageway into a room filled with terminals, screens and computers. Pablo is in it, wearing a scientist's coat, looking interestedly into one of the screens and scribbling on a clipboard. At one point, he turns to Tyrone and walks towards him.

"Mr. Tyrone, I've been checking out the activities of the Blue Army on the enemy lines during this week. Our troops are gaining important strategic advantages on Austria, France and the Philippines."

"That's good," Tyrone replies, almost unimpressed. "Any more news?"

Pablo scratches the back of his head. "Well, actually, I forgot Poland."

Tyrone rubs his chin. "Hmm."

"Oh, yes, and our intelligence is picking up rumours that the Red Army is researching a new kind of ammunition, which might give them a slight fighting superiority. We are trying to intercept the traffic on the enemy's network and pick up any clues about their plans."

"Tell them to put extra effort on that," Tyrone says, sitting straight on his chair. "Any knowledge about that is important to us. What about Paint-A-Roo? Any news on it?"

"Well, according to our sources," Pablo says, reading from the clipboard, "the company is entering an environmental campaign sometime next week."

Tyrone furrows his brow. "Why would they want to do that?"

"For the publicity, I guess. Don't you think it could be a good idea to do the same?"

"Maybe, but not right now. We shouldn't look like we're only following Austin's footsteps," he says. "Besides, if we are getting into something like that, we have to make it _big_."

"Big?" Pablo says, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes: big. We have to show the people _and_ Paint-A-Roo that we're in for the _real_ business, the _real_ environmental awareness and concern. We have to hit the news with a vengeance. With so many campaigns out there, we might end up looking like we're merely trying to build a good image."

Pablo pauses for a second. "... but isn't that _just_ what we're trying to do?"

Tyrone shrugs, nonchalantly. "Yes."

"Oh, well, I guess it's fine, then," Pablo says. "I'll keep an eye on that campaign and how it works. I'll keep you up to date about it."

"Your help is much appreciated, Pablo."

Tyrone folds his hands and watches one of the screens of his computer for a moment, before reaching out for the mouse.

"Yes," Austin speaks on the mouthpiece, while playing with his fountain pen. We're now inside his brightly coloured office, with many windows and two white desks, one for Austin and one for Tasha. He glances at the LCD monitor of his computer while he speaks. "Yes, I'm willing to meet your technicians as soon as possible. Our company is not willing to save any efforts in joining this campaign."

Tasha looks through the appointment schedule on her computer, paying attention to what Austin speaks.

"Yes, we are aware of the costs involved," he goes on. "This isn't a worry for us."

Tasha checks the clock: it's 2:00 PM.

"I see... yes, um, I believe Tuesday would be fine," he says, also checking his appointments on his computer. "I'll be more than happy to meet you here... Yes, definitely. I will be waiting, thank you very much!... Good afternoon to you, too!"

Austin puts down the phone and takes a deep, satisfied breath. "I have a great feeling about this. It seems you were right, Tasha: people _do_ care about environmental issues a lot, these days. I just hope the fad won't die too soon."

"I don't think it will. The press _and_ the companies can keep it going on for as long as they want," Tasha replies. "By the way, Uniqua should be arriving soon. I just hope you're not giving her too much access to your stuff."

"You mean, the Red Army?"

"Among other things, yes," she says.

"Oh, don't you worry," he replies, gesturing at her. "We know each other for a long time and she isn't even suspicious of it. Nobody is, in fact. For her, I'm still the role model for any CEO out there, _and_ a great friend."

"Does she really chase you so much just because you're friends?"

"Well, she gave much help in building my reputation, so she can always trust me when she needs a good story. And I do appreciate her help."

Tasha raises her eyebrows. "I just hope people don't get too suspicious about the two of you."

"Oh, why should they?" Austin says with a smile. "Do you think anyone _knows_ who writes those reports?"

She shrugs. "I guess you have a point."

"Trust me," he says. "It will all go fine."

It is 2:04 PM, as Tasha gets the message from the receptionist that a reporter was waiting outside.

"Tell her she can come in," she says. "Mr. Austin is waiting for her."

A moment later, she comes through the door, still with the clipboard on her arm and the camera hung on her neck. "Excuse me, Mr. Austin, Miss Tasha! I'm sorry I'm a little late, I had trouble coming here. I suppose we can get started now?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely!" Austin says, promptly getting up from his chair. "But drop the formality, first. Let's make this as inviting and cosy as possible, right, Uniqua?"

"Um, well, if you say so... But first, a picture, if you will! Maybe sitting on your desk, looking professional!"

Austin sits down, still wearing the same smile as always, as Uniqua prepares the camera and takes a picture, and another, and another, until she seems satisfied. "I think that will do! Thanks"

"Oh, and one from Tasha, now!" he says, pointing at her.

"What? Me?" Tasha says, a bit shocked.

"Of course!" Austin replies. "Everyone needs to know I'd be nothing without my efficient, diligent secretary."

"Smile, Tasha!" Uniqua says as she prepares the camera. Tasha tries to look less uncomfortable and sketches a smile towards the camera. Uniqua goes on taking pictures, until it looks fine. "There! This should do! Thanks, Tasha!"

"Now, now, there's Uniqua, never failing to do a good job," Austin says, receptively. "Sit down, now; let's talk about something!"

"Yes! Yes, sure," she says, sitting down on a chair in front of his desk. She pulls out a tape recorder from her pocket, turns it on and places it on the desk. "The people are really willing to know a bit more about the CEO behind the company."

"Oh, I can imagine that!" she replies, amiably. "The consumers always need to feel a bit close, a bit intimate with those who produce the goods that are so important in their lives. People need that sort of link."

"So, yes, what kind of music do you like to hear?" she asks, scribbling down on the clipboard, almost as if there wasn't a tape recorder there.

"Ahh, music... well, the classics are still the best there is. You can't replace a Beethoven, or a Tchaikovsky or a Sibelius, if you know what I mean, but I still like some rock 'n' roll once in a while! Yes, I do, and I'm a fan of the Lounge Lizards; especially when the Lurie brothers were in it. Now that's some good music you don't hear everyday."

"And how's the family going?" Uniqua asks. Tasha glances at the two of them and furrows her brow, in puzzlement.

"Couldn't be better!" he replies with a chuckle. "My mother has just recovered from an illness she had a month ago. She's been in the hospital for a few weeks, but she's already pretty much back into shape. That's one sturdy lady, you know!"

"Does she still paint those pictures you told me about once?"

"Absolutely! She doesn't give up her passions easily, you see. And I think I inherited that from her!"

"It seems you have, Austin," she says, while doing some more scribbling. "So, you have told me about a certain environmental campaign you are getting on. How is it going?"

"Nice and smooth," he replies, folding his hands. "I have the feeling that this is going to be fantastic."

"Really? Is there anything you can tell us in advance? Of course, there's no need to disclose any secret matters," she says, with interest.

"There's no need for secrecy here. This campaign is something the whole nation, and even the whole world, should care about. We are meeting the environment technicians next week, who should show us a rough plan of the changes and investments we have to make in our factories. They'll set a series of norms and tests we have to abide, and if we are successful, our products will carry a certificate of environmental awareness. Thus, our customers will know that they're buying a clean, ecologic product, and thus doing Mother Nature a favour."

"And what's the motivation for this?"

"Pure greed," he says, nonchalantly. For a moment, he watches Uniqua's dumbfounded face, and then glances over his shoulder at Tasha's slightly less dumbfounded face, and bursts into friendly, spontaneous laughter. Tasha starts laughing, too, and Uniqua eventually follows suit.

"You didn't think I was serious, did you?" he asks.

"Oh, no, no, of course not," she says, still uncomfortable. "But anyway, yes, what's the _real_ motivation?"

He straightens up on his chair and clears his throat. "At this point, anyone knows that caring about the environment is caring about the future," he says, as if starting a lecture. "Environmental awareness isn't a thing just for the scientists and the activists anymore; it's a thing for _all_ of us. Also, joining in this campaign can give the incentive for other companies to join in. We're one of the very first paint industries to join, and we think we can invite other industries to follow us and increase the awareness. In fact, it would be quite interesting for us to know what the other companies are willing to do about it."

"Are you sure?" Uniqua asks. Tasha glances at them, with interest and puzzlement.

"Most definitely!" he says, promptly. "It's important to know if everyone else is worried about this important issue. Why don't you talk to Mr. Tyrone, of Mooseworks Inc., to see what she thinks of it? It's always nice to see what they're into."

"Well, if you say so," she says, "maybe it's worth a shot."

"I do think it is. Besides, it's your interest as a reporter to cover up as many things as you can."

"Thank you so much for your support, Austin!" she says, getting up and picking up the tape recorder. "I knew I could count on you."

"You're always welcome, Uniqua," he says, also getting up and reaching out to shake her hand. She shakes it promptly.

"Well, I really have to get going now. Thanks to you both for your time!"

Uniqua waves goodbye and leaves the room hurriedly. Austin sits on his chair, with a content smile. Tasha is still giving him a questioning look, with one lowered eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that?" she asks. He looks back at her, with the same tranquil expression.

"About sending her to Mooseworks?"

"Yeah," she says, "I mean... you're suggesting her to do publicity for your rival. What do you intend with that?"

"Tasha, my dear," he says, "she can't do him any more publicity than he already does himself. Besides, she's so much into my participation on the campaign, that she'll use Paint-A-Roo as _the_ example that Tyrone should follow. That's really what I have in mind." He sits straight on the chair, folding his hands. "Besides, with her being a reporter, he'll feel much more confident about disclosing his plans for the future to her than he feels with anyone else. That's always useful for us."

"You mean, you're using her as a spy?" she asks, with a little bit of surprise.

"I guess," he replies. "But she's just doing her job, right? She will only publish what he wants her to publish, and if he wants to attract customers, he'll have to talk about whatever he's preparing... and maybe, just maybe, you could scrape off a bit of information about the Blue Army..."

"Hmm, are you really sure?"

"Well, I think it's worth a shot," he says. "It can't go wrong. Trust me. Trust _her_, too."

She rubs her chin. "Yeah, I guess _you_ really do trust her a lot; otherwise you wouldn't have pulled off that joke on her, _especially_ since you were being recorded."

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Above being a journalist, she is Uniqua. Remember that."

About an hour later, the phone rings on Pablo's desk. He walks in from the computer room and picks it up. The greeting sounds like it's coming from a wind-up toy:

"Mooseworks Inc., good afternoon. How can I help you?"

We can guess it's Uniqua on the other side of the line.

"Yes?... Uh-huh... You want to do an interview with Mr. Tyrone?... I see, let me check it out."

He presses the "mute" button and turns to Tyrone.

"Mr. Tyrone? There's a reporter here for the Dashcolon newspaper, and she wants to schedule an interview with you."

He looks at Pablo, incredulous.

"An interview with _me_? I wonder why..."

"Well, you can always do with a bit of extra publicity, you know," Pablo says.

Tyrone rubs his chin. "It's true. It might be a good idea. Let's see..." He clicks through the screen, browsing through his organiser. "I have some free time tomorrow at 4 PM."

Pablo releases the button and speaks on the mouthpiece. "He's available tomorrow at 4 PM. Is it okay for you?... Yes. Yes, that's okay. You can come here, then. He'll be waiting for you... You're welcome. Bye!"

As he puts the phone on the hook, Tyrone scratches his head. "You know, I've never been interviewed for a newspaper before. I wonder what that reporter wants?"

"I don't know," Pablo says, walking towards his desk. "But I guess it can be good for you."

"I hope so," he replies.

We skip to the next day, and it's about 4:03 PM when Pablo receives a message from the receptionist that the reporter is waiting.

"Oh, yes! The reporter!" Tyrone says, with worry. "Quick, set everything up straight, Pablo."

He presses some buttons on his desk, and the passageway to the computer room is slowly closed by two sliding doors coming from each side. Pablo removes his white coat, throws it into the computer room before the doors close, and sits straight on his chair. Tyrone adjusts his tie and puts away some papers in one of his drawers. He signals to Pablo that everything is set.

"Send her in," Pablo says over to the receptionist through the phone. Tyrone waits patiently, and the door opens. Uniqua appears, carrying her clipboard and her camera, as usual, and wearing a beautiful, but discreet dark blue dress and a matching hat. Tyrone sits there, expressionless, without taking his eyes off her.

"Hello, excuse me!" she says, walking towards Tyrone's desk. "I am Uniqua, reporter from the Dashcolon newspaper. I scheduled an interview with you, yesterday."

His motionless face finally makes a slight movement, a barely perceptible nod. "Uh-huh."

Pablo notices his lack of reaction, though Uniqua gives him little chance to do anything.

"Great," she says. "Mind if I take a few photographs, please?" She awkwardly prepares the camera, and Tyrone tries hard to make a decent pose, even though he can't take his eyes off her. "Smile for the camera!" she says, and takes a picture, and then another, and another from a different angle, and another from yet another angle. "There! These are excellent. Can we begin the interview now?"

"Um... yeah. Sure," he says.

"Nice! Just give me a minute, there..." She takes her tape recorder and starts it, laying it on Tyrone's desk, and pulls out a pen from her pocket. Tyrone moves a little on his chair, while Pablo just watches the scene, impatient.

"Um... you can sit down, if you wish, Miss Uniqua," he finally says.

Tyrone's eyes pop wide open. "Oh! Of course! Please, take your seat, Miss Uniqua. I'm sorry."

"Thank you!" she says, kindly, as she takes her seat before Tyrone's desk. "So I assume we can get started now?"

"By all means," Tyrone says, leaning forwards on his desk.

"Fine. So, how is business going for your company recently?"

"Going better than ever!" he says, with enthusiasm. "We've been expanding our markets everyday, and the new products we launched last week are doing better than we expected. Things couldn't possibly get any better."

"That's great to hear," she says, scribbling away. "So, what are your current business plans?"

"Right now, we're promoting our new products, and trying to attract new customers," he says. "We're always interested in letting more people know about our superior products."

She nods, finishing her writing. "Okay. So, tell me, does your company have any concern with environmental issues?"

Pablo glances at them, with a bit of concern.

"Most definitely," Tyrone shoots back. "In fact, our company is already discussing measures and actions to reduce the amount of pollution our factories produce to an absolute minimum. The environment has been a growing issue for us, and we think _everyone_ out there should be involved with it somehow."

Pablo rubs his chin, in puzzlement. Uniqua just goes on scribbling.

"I see. What about the National Campaign for Environmental Awareness? Several companies are joining the campaign and combining their efforts. Paint-A-Roo is, in fact, a pioneer among the paint industries in the nation. Are you involved with it?"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure the campaign can be a great help for us, but we are creating our own measures and initiatives in this issue. We want not simply to follow everyone else, but to break new ground, and bring our actions to a degree never, _ever_ seen before."

"That sounds promising!" she says, enthusiastic. "I am sure people will be glad to hear that. I feel this interview has been very productive, Mr. Tyrone!"

"I'm glad for being helpful, Miss Uniqua," he says, smiling, as she gets up and picks up the tape recorder. He stands up as well and reaches out to shake her hand.

"Oh, it's my pleasure!" she says, shaking his hand. "So, is there any chance of another interview? More interesting things you can talk about?"

"Sure, why not?" he replies straightening himself up. "I'm sure I'll be available on Monday, next week. Call me so we can arrange everything."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Tyrone! Now, I really need to get going. Meet you next time, then!"

"So long, Miss Uniqua!" Tyrone says, and sits back on his chair. She leaves, and he looks at Pablo, who looks back at him. "Fine lady, that Miss Uniqua, don't you think?"

"Well... she seems nice," Pablo answers, getting down from his chair. "But I'm glad anyway that you'll probably get some good publicity out of that interview."

"Publicity... publicity," he mutters to himself, tonelessly. "Yeah, publicity is nice... but a friend is much nicer, don't you think?"

Pablo lowers one eyebrow and rubs his chin. "Are you feeling alright, Mr. Tyrone?"

"Of course I am, Pablo," he exclaims back. "Now let me enjoy the moment, okay?"

He sits back on his chair and watches the ceiling, smiling. Pablo watches him for a moment, and then shakes his head, walking back to his desk.

It's now Friday morning; Tasha and Austin are in their office. She is reading the newspaper aloud, and he's paying attention closely.

"It's a pride to our city to know we have two paint companies so aware of their responsibility with our planet. Paint-A-Roo announces it is joining the National Campaign for Environmental Awareness, and the beginning of their participation should happen in less than a week. Meanwhile, Mooseworks announces it is taking important measures, and is undertaking projects that no other company in the nation has ever seen. With such bold and innovative companies, we should surely look out for very important lessons on the preservation of our precious nature." She closes the newspaper and looks at Austin, expecting him to say something.

"So... Mooseworks is really up to something," he says, rubbing his chin with interest.

"Well, they seem pretty far from following your example, as you wished. I guess Tyrone isn't really willing to stay far behind in this race."

"Oh, he never is," Austin replies. "But Uniqua is on our side, and she's smart enough to know she should stick there."

"So you still think it was a clever idea?" Tasha says.

"Of course!" he replies promptly. "If he was confident with saying that to her on their first interview, we should definitely expect more. In fact, I'd like to talk to her right now."

Uniqua is on the street, and her cell phone rings. After fumbling about with her items a little, she picks it up and answers it.

"Reporter Uniqua speaking, good morning!"

"Hello, Uniqua! It's me, Austin!" he says from the other side.

"Oh, hello, Austin! So, what's up?"

"I saw your story today. It's very good, Uniqua!"

"Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. It was a good suggestion of yours, to go interview Mr. Tyrone."

"Yeah, it seems to be," he says. "Do you think there'll be another interview with him?"

"Oh, there will! He said he'll be available next Monday. So if everything goes fine, you should see another article about it on Tuesday."

"That's great to know, Uniqua. I'll look forwards to it!"

"Thank you, Austin! I'll do my best."

"Okay, then. Have a nice day, Uniqua!"

"The same to you, Austin. Bye bye!"

She hangs up and goes on with her job.

It is now Monday, early afternoon. Uniqua is interviewing Tyrone again. His face has a much more comfortable, confident expression than before.

"So, Mr. Tyrone," she says, "in your business views, what's the most important thing in your company?"

"Good question, Miss Uniqua," Tyrone says, folding his hands. "I believe the most important thing for us is to give our staff the best working conditions we can give. This way, we allow our employees not only to increase their productivity, but most importantly to care more about the quality of their work. A staff that works under pressure doesn't have conditions of controlling the quality of what they do. By improving their working conditions, we try to turn their job into a hobby, so that they can produce better and more reliable goods for our population."

Uniqua nods and writes away, and he goes on.

"Of course, that includes all sections in our company, from the workshops all the way to the CEO's office," he says, with a sly smile, "which allows me to have delightful and productive conversations with such special, wonderful people such as you."

Her scribbling grinds to a halt, and she's barely able to move, let alone look at his face. She is blushing and clearly surprised by his words – and so is Pablo, who is also unable to move. He watches Tyrone with disbelief.

"Oh, please... You flatter me, Mr. Tyrone," she says.

"Well, what can I do? I'm a sincere person," he goes on. "And if I'm saying it, it's because it is true. I've never met a person like you, and I can't stop thinking about how much I'd love being your friend."

Her expression changes, becomes a little less defensive. "Are you serious?"

"I certainly am," he says, like only he can say.

"Wow... I just didn't expect that."

"I understand," he replies, leaning forwards over the desk. "But believe me, I really mean it. Just imagine all the things we could do together... We could forget about companies, industries, paint, newspapers and everything else for a while. We can travel all around the world, visit places we've never visited... do it as _friends_! Do it as real, good friends! We can have a great time together, better than we've ever had! What do you say? I don't want publicity, I don't want exposure, I don't want stories on the news. Do you trust me?"

Pablo watches them both with worry. Uniqua is still in shock, but thinking.

"Yes, I do," she says, finally, with a wide smile.

"Good," Tyrone says, giving an honest smile. "Pack your stuff and come here tomorrow, first thing in the morning."

She picks up her things quickly and gets up from the chair. They big each other farewell, and she leaves the room. Tyrone keeps staring at the door, with something of a smile on his face. Pablo gets down from his chair and walks towards him. Tyrone doesn't react.

"Mr. Tyrone?" Pablo calls. Tyrone doesn't move, keeps his eyes on the door and that foolish smile. "Mr. Tyrone?" Pablo repeats, louder. Tyrone sighs, and Pablo scratches his head. "_Mr. Tyrone?!_"

Tyrone snaps out of his trance and replies, "Yep?"

"Are you sure of what you just did?" Pablo says.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Tyrone replies, plainly. "Sometimes, when you really wish to do something, you just have to pull yourself together and _do_ it."

"But you have only seen her twice, and..."

"I am sure of it, Pablo," he says. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"But what about the company?" Pablo says with worry. "Who's going to take care of it? Who's going to take care of the Blue Army?"

Tyrone gets down from his chair and walks towards the middle of the room. "Pablo, I'm sure that you can do it. You've been watching me do it all the time. Now, it's your turn."

"_Me?_"

"I'm confident you can do a good job, Pablo," he says. "Besides, if you really need to speak to me, you can always call me, or I can talk to you through my laptop."

"But how long is it going to take?" Pablo says, pacing around the room and gesturing with his flippers.

"I have no idea."

Pablo tries to speak, but gives up and sighs.

"Believe me, Pablo, there'll be nothing wrong. Besides... you'll get to sit on my chair and use my computer," Tyrone says, smiling.

Pablo lowers one eyebrow, with his flippers crossed. "Well... I hope that will make a difference."

"It's got _three_ screens," Tyrone says, with a sly tone. Pablo lowers one eyebrow. "Talk about it... I have a very important thing to make."

Tyrone rushes to his seat and picks up the phone, but halts.

"I wonder... What would be the best place for us to visit first? Paris? Madrid? Rio?"

Pablo sighs, and moves back to his desk.

"There's the Coliseum in Italy... we can watch an opera and eat pizza! Hmm... opera... What about the Sidney Opera House? It's one of the new Wonders of the World, right? And so is Christ, the Redeemer! Geez, where do we start?"

The afternoon passed, and Tyrone eventually made his choice. Sure thing, next morning, he and Uniqua were inside a plane; and Austin was in his office, wondering why her story wasn't in the newspaper.

"It's odd," he said. "She _did_ say she'd have something published by now."

"Maybe she hasn't had time?" Tasha suggested.

"Well, that would be strange. Uniqua never delays her work like that." Austin scratched his head. "Maybe I should call the newspaper to check it out."

He lifts the phone off the hook and dials some numbers. About five seconds later, he starts to speak.

"Hello, good morning. This is Mr. Austin, from Paint-A-Roo Inc. Is reporter Uniqua there?... No?... She hasn't appeared there since yesterday?... That's odd. Well, I'll keep trying to contact her. Thank you!"

He puts down the phone and rubs his chin. "Uniqua never missed her job before. I wonder if something happened?"

"Why don't you try her cell phone?" Tasha suggested.

"Yes, I'll do that. Try her house, Tasha," he said. He picked up the phone again and dialled. A moment later, he hung it up and tried again. "It's turned off."

"Nobody answers in her house," Tasha said. "Where could she be?"

Austin supports his chin on his folded hands, thinking. "I just hope she's okay."

"Hello, Tyrone?" Pablo speaks on the phone. "How is it over there?"

"More than perfect, Pablo!" he replies, on his cell phone, while he and Uniqua observe the Tower of Pisa. She's taking pictures, while he watches her with enthusiasm. "We're enjoying it very much."

"That's nice to know," he says.

"How is it going there?" Tyrone asks. "Any problems, or are you handling everything?"

"So far, everything is fine. I think it'll be okay, really. Also, call me whenever you need, Tyrone," Pablo says.

"Sure thing, Pablo," Tyrone replies. "I'll talk to you later, then!"

"Okay. Have fun!"

"Thanks!" Tyrone puts the phone away. He walks towards Uniqua, who's still taking pictures of everything.

"This is marvellous!" she says, with excitement. "I never thought travelling could be this much fun."

"Me neither," he replies, observing the landscape around him, smiling.

In the Paint-A-Roo headquarters, a lift is descending quickly into the underground. Eventually it stops, and as the doors open, Austin and Tasha walk out into a long, metallic tunnel with bluish walls, cylindrical pipes along the ceiling and fluorescent panels every five metres or so. At the end of the tunnel is a double sliding door, and a panel on the wall to its right. Austin steps by it and lowers his head a little so he looks directly at a little black circle with his right eye. An array of tiny red laser beams sweep across his pupil, and a light bulb on the panel is lit. The doors slide open and the two of them step through them.

There's a round table inside, with some chairs around them. The walls are filled with monitors, control pads, keyboards, microphones, headsets and tape recorders. The doors close as Austin and Tasha enter. He moves towards a monitor, and she leans over the table to observe a world map which is spread over it. Several red and blue pins are scattered across it. She follows some of them with her finger.

"Austin, the Blue Army has been making progress across our territory in Poland," Tasha announces. "They now have access to our most strategically important outposts in the continent, and our intelligence confirms they're preparing an attack sometime soon."

"That's worrying," he replies. "We can never forget Poland. We must keep control on that outpost however we can."

"The recruiting of troops in the region seems to be going along nicely, though. I believe we could invest more in training and equipment," she says.

Austin moves towards a radio and puts on the headset. "I'll get in contact with our commander in Poland." He moves the knobs and sliders, looking for the correct frequency, and calls into the microphone. "Attention, attention, this is Austin speaking. Can you read me? Attention, attention, this is Austin speaking. Can you read me?"

He stops moving the knobs as soon as he finds the frequency. "Loud and clear, commander. Over." He listens for a moment, while Tasha looks through the pins on the map, in other regions. "Tasha just gave me the situation here. We must keep on with the recruiting of troops, increase their training and acquire more equipment and ammunition to defend that outpost and prepare a counter-attack. Over." He keeps on listening, nodding at some points. "We have to do this as quickly as possible. The Blue Army might attack at any time, and the outpost has to remain under our control at all costs. I shall increase the funding from 20% to 30% of our revenue. Over."

Tasha suddenly looks at him with eyes slightly wide. Austin listens on, firmly. "You're doing a great job, commander. Keep our troops in order and everything will be fine. Over and out."

Austin removes the headset and puts it away, turning towards Tasha.

"30% of our revenue?" she asks. "You've never set such high funding before."

"Poland is a crucial location for us, and worth every funding we put in it. Besides, if we're successful in fending off the attack, we can counter-attack the weakened troops and gain control of the entire region," he says. "Besides, how is the research going on in our labs in Congo?"

"It is going well," Tasha says. "Our scientists believe we're nearing a technological breakthrough, which will enable them to produce a denser kind of ammunition. Our troops are protecting the labs, to avoid a possible raid by the enemy."

"This is important," he says. "This breakthrough will give us an important advantage over the Blue Army. Let's watch their progress closely."

"Right, Austin," Tasha replied. "I believe this is all we had for today. Shall we go back to the office?"

"By all means, Tasha," he says. They walk through the doors as they open and down the tunnel, back to the lift.

It is now evening, and Tyrone and Uniqua are in a gondola, sailing through the canals of Venice. Both of them watch the surrounding buildings, and she goes on taking pictures.

"You know," she says, "I decided that I really don't want to be bothered during our travels. I want to make this as good as possible."

"That's nice, Uniqua," he answers. "I know I'll probably have to be bothered a few times... but I hope Pablo takes care of everything."

Austin is still in his office, dialling to Uniqua's cell phone over and over again, never getting any answer. He stares at his desk, with his head supported on his left hand, holding the phone to his ear. Tasha steps into the darkened office.

"Austin... it's 8 o'clock already," she says.

He sighs deeply in response.

"Let's go home for now," she goes on. "We'll think of what to do tomorrow."

He puts down the phone and glances at her. "Yeah... I guess we should do that. I'll get going soon."

She nods and walks away. Austin stares at the floor, thinking. "Where could she be?" he mutters to himself.

In the Mooseworks Inc. CEO's office, next morning, Pablo is sitting on Tyrone's chair, checking out one of the computer screens. He doesn't display much interest, though, and soon he looks at the telephone, moves it slightly, and then leaves it alone. He checks some papers which are over the desk, flicks through them without interest, and then abandons them. He adjusts himself in his chair, and starts to notice how comfortable it is. Hesitating, he leans back on it, and soon enough, he's folding his hands behind his head, leaning far back in the chair, with his legs crossed.

"Wow... I didn't know being Tyrone was so good," he says to himself, taking a deep, satisfied breath. "I hope he'll do this more often..."

Austin, in his office, is fumbling over his desk, searching recklessly on a phone book, looking under papers, inside drawers and under the phone. Tasha is reading through that day's edition of the Dashcolon newspaper, and suddenly looks at him when she hears the thud of a closing drawer. Austin exhales in frustration. "Nobody at the newspaper saw her, her cell phone is turned off, nobody answers at her house... She's missing for one day already!"

"There's nothing about her, here," Tasha says, browsing trough the paper.

"What are we going to do?" he says, with urgency. "I'm worried, you know!"

"I understand, Austin," she replies, "I'm worried too. But maybe there isn't much we can do."

"We should warn the police about it. We should put it on the news, on the TV, spread posters through the city... or through the whole nation, or the whole world!"

Tasha sighs and shakes her head, in a mix of concern and frustration.

"I wonder who could know something, _anything_ about her," he goes on, and pauses for a moment... "I wonder if she got to make the interview with Tyrone, that one she said she would do."

She looks at him again, surprised. "You want to ask Tyrone about it?"

He returns a look of disbelief and almost spite. "_Me?_ Talking to Tyrone? You know I'd never do that."

"So, what do you suggest?"

He rubs his chin. "Perhaps _you_ can call him, you know, pretending you're someone else, a fan of Uniqua, or a fan of him, I dunno... just ask him if he knows about her."

She looks at the phone, with a hint of resignation. "Well... might be worth a try," she says, "if it's for Uniqua."

Pablo, on his chair, resting, staring at the ceiling, is startled by the ringing of the phone. He nearly jumps out of his chair.

"The phone!", he yells. "Oh, boy, the phone is ringing, the phone is ringing! Oh, boy, what are we going to do? Okay, stay cool, _everybody_ stay calm! The phone is ringing, it won't stop ringing, what are we..."

He looks around, finds himself alone, and falls silent. Resigned, he picks up the phone. "Mooseworks Inc., good morning."

"Hello?" Tasha says, faking a higher, more nasal voice. "I wish to speak to Mr. Tyrone, is he available?"

"Tyrone?" Pablo says, getting worried. "He's... not available, not now. He is on a business trip, for a couple of weeks. This is Pablo, his assistant, speaking."

"Oh... I see, Pablo," she says. "Well, maybe you can help me anyway! I read that story about Mooseworks on the Dashcolon newspaper. That was very interesting, wasn't it? That reporter, Uniqua, sure knows how to write an article, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I think so," Pablo says. "She indeed can."

"Well, I'd love reading more about your company! Has she done any other interview with you? Do you know if she's writing more?"

"Um... well, she made an interview with Tyrone last Monday," he replies. "I don't know when she might write more. She's... on a trip, you know."

Tasha furrows her brow. "A trip?"

"Yeah, a trip," he says. "I'm not sure on where she is, and how long it will take, but she's alright."

"I see... Well, that's nice. Are you sure you don't know where she is?"

"Last I heard, she was in Italy," Pablo says.

"Italy?" Tasha says, surprised. "Well... good for her, I guess! So... thank you very much, Pablo. I appreciate your help very much! Goodbye!"

"You're welcome! Goodbye!" Pablo says, and puts down the phone.

"I spoke to Tyrone's assistant, Pablo," Tasha tells Austin. "He said Uniqua is on a trip, and that she was in Italy the last he heard. He told me she's fine."

"On a trip? In Italy?" Austin says, confused. "Why would she leave like that, without a warning?"

"I don't know," Tasha says. "But I hope she's fine, indeed."

"Yeah... me too," Austin says, sighing.

Tyrone and Uniqua, by this time, are atop the Arc de Triomphe. She snaps pictures away copiously, while he walks along with her, smiling contently. Meanwhile, Pablo is in the communications room, on Tyrone's office. He's wearing his lab coat and a headset, speaking on the microphone of a radio.

"The Red Army must be building its defences on the Polish outpost. We cannot waste our time in capturing it. Over..."

He rubs his chin while listening. "Yes, I know. We cannot give them time to pile up their defences. We must use our troops' high morale to attack them as soon as possible. Taking over the outpost should leave them with serious difficulties on that region. Over..." He listens with attention, while glancing at some of the monitors. "Keep the intelligence busy with any bit of information regarding the activities on the outpost. It is critical to attack at the right time. I shall forward the necessary resources to you. I'll await further information. Over and out."

Pablo puts the headset down and goes back to the chair, sitting on it and leaning back, crossing his legs on top of the desk.

"Those people just don't know when to stop talking," he mutters to himself.

"Yes," Austin says on the phone. "Yes. Yes, yes. Yes. No, don't try to talk to her, just contact me as soon as possible. Yes. Yes, yes... Yes. Yes, try to be as stealthy as you can. Yes. Contact me whenever necessary. Goodbye."

He puts down the phone, and looks at Tasha. "I've warned our agents in Italy to try to keep an eye on Uniqua. Whenever they spot her, they'll contact me."

"You mean you want to keep those guys stalking her through the whole country?" Tasha says.

"They won't stalk her," he says. "After all, we don't even know in which city she is. They'll just pay a little more attention to anything they see and hear. If they find her, they'll let me know how and where she is."

"Well... that sounds reasonable," she says.

Tyrone and Uniqua, by this time, are walking along the Champs-Elysées, and for once, she's not taking pictures.

"Are you really sure about not letting anyone contact you, Uniqua?" he asks her.

"As sure as I can be," she says.

"But what if it's something important?"

"There can't be anything _that_ important, really. Trust me, I've made up my mind."

"And... well, just how did you manage to leave like that? Didn't the folks at the newspaper complain, or they don't know about it?" he says.

"Oh, I have my ways," she says, with a sly tone in her voice. "Actually, I simply promised them a smashing news story for when I came back."

"... ah, I see," he says. "And do you have anything in mind?"

She furrows her brow. "Should I?"

And then they laugh.

It's now early evening, and we see Pablo frantically dialling a number on the phone in the office. Tyrone is with Uniqua in the Jules Verne restaurant on the Eiffel Tower, and his cell phone rings.

"Oh, geez, who can it be now?" he says. "Excuse me for a moment, will you?"

"Sure!" she says. Tyrone gets up and walks away discreetly, and answers the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Tyrone? Mr. Tyrone, it's me, Pablo! It's urgent!"

Tyrone sighs and wipes his forehead. "Pablo? You're interrupting my dinner!"

"Please, Mr. Tyrone, it's important. Our intelligence located a laboratory belonging to the Red Army, in Congo! They are sure the Red army is conducting very important research in there..."

"Pablo... Pablo, listen," Tyrone cuts in. "I asked you to take care of our business, didn't I? I told you the responsibility is yours, and I trust you will do the right decisions."

"But—"

"You'll do fine, Pablo," he continues. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go back to dinner, okay? Talk to you later, Pablo."

He turns off the phone and goes back to his table. Pablo, on the office, looks desolate. He puts down the phone and moves back to the communications room. Putting on the headset, he tries to contact one of the Blue Army's bases.

"This is Pablo speaking. Our top priority is to attack the laboratory as soon as possible. I'll allocate as many resources as I can to your base, and it's your duty to take over the base and try to keep as much of their research intact for us to use. Prepare your tactics and order the attack."

We now move two days forwards. Tyrone and Uniqua are by now in London, and while they watch the changing of the Royal Guard, Austin and Tasha are walking into their conference room again.

"Austin, we received reports from our outpost in Poland today," Tasha says. "The Blue Army attempted an assault last night. Their forces were way too weak, though, and our defences had no trouble in fending them off."

"This is excellent news," he says, while looking through the monitors. "We should order a counter-attack straight away, as we can use our troops' high morale and Blue Army's weakened forces."

"I find it strange that their attack was so weak," she says. "Isn't it better to make sure, first, if they aren't setting up an ambush, or something like that?"

"That's unlikely," Austin replies. "It was their interest to put their hands on the region as fast as they can... but we can do with a little bit of intelligence, anyway, if only just to make sure."

"We also received reports from our laboratory in Congo. The Blue Army also attempted an assault on the labs last night, but our troops chased them away."

Austin rubs his chin. "Two attacks in the same night? Isn't that strange? Also, how is the laboratory, and the research?"

"The labs are intact," she says. "The research has halted, though, as our troops are searching the region to see if it's safe."

"It wouldn't be interesting to keep the research halted like that, especially now that they were making progress. I think we should move all our data and progress to our main laboratory in England, and let the research continue there. In fact, I'd like to oversee this operation. I'd like to be in London tomorrow. Let's use our private jet plane and get going next morning."

"I shall schedule a flight right away," Tasha says.

Pablo, in the communications room, is receiving the news.

"What do you mean, not strong enough? Our troops should have been stronger? Over..." His face expresses worry, and he won't stop rubbing his forehead. "Not enough resources? But I... oh... the attack on the laboratory... over." He stops, and listens carefully. "Yes. I decided the attack on the laboratory was our top priority. The assault in Poland shouldn't have happened. Over..." He sighs and nods. "I understand. But we will recover. We shall recover. We haven't lost control of the situation, we still can get over this. Over... ... yes, I will take care of this. Over and out."

He puts the headset down. "Oh, boy... Tyrone won't be happy about this." He moves towards the telephone on Tyrone's desk, but hesitates before picking it up. He glares at it, scratches his head, and moves away from the desk. "I have to deal with this _on my own_."

We now are in a hotel in London, the next day, just before noon. Tyrone and Uniqua are walking out of a lift into the crowded lobby, chatting.

"I'm glad we're staying here for a while," Uniqua says, as they walk towards the front door. "Just to enjoy the city. I like it here."

"Me too," he says. "There's a lot of things and places I still want to see, but we have time—"

"Hey, look!" she exclaims, as they pass walk by the reception desk. "Look who's there! Hello, Mr. Austin!" she yells. Tyrone quickly pulls her aside, towards the door. She frowns and objects. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Uniqua, don't do that!" he whispers with urgency.

"Why not? I just wanted to greet him, we haven't talked to each other for days..."

"Yes, but..." He racks his brain for a convincing response. "You can't yell like that in public. You've got to be more discreet in places like this."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry about that," she says, not really resigned.

By the reception desk, Austin and Tasha were signing some papers for the check in, and he's looking at the door, trying to listen to something. Tasha notices him. "Anything wrong?"

"I'm absolutely sure I heard Uniqua's voice, calling my name. Didn't you hear it?"

She raises her eyebrows somewhat. "Not really, no."

"Well, I know _I_ heard it," he says.

"Maybe it was someone else, with a similar voice," Tasha says. "Wasn't Uniqua in Italy, anyway? What would she be doing here?"

"I don't know," he sighs, going back to the check in.

By midday, Uniqua and Tyrone are in a restaurant, having lunch. Uniqua is very tranquil and enjoying herself, but Tyrone is trying to say something.

"Um, Uniqua?" he tries; she gives him an unassuming look. "I'm... sorry for being so rude with you, earlier today... I didn't mean to."

She nods, somewhat unconvincingly. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Yeah, I..." He sighs, looking at his plate. "Look... I don't want to hurt you, or anything... It's... hard for me to explain. But you have to understand me. And you have to _trust_ me."

"What's the matter?"

"I... I don't want you to talk to Austin, while we're here... while we're doing this, you know. Just wait until we're back."

She faces him directly, in disbelief. "You don't want me to talk to my own friend?"

"I, it's, look... you wouldn't understand, Uniqua, but... This is important. I just want you... to let this whole thing pass, you know... just... don't do it. Please. You have to trust me."

She sighs deeply, looking down at her table. "Well..."

"Tell me you won't do it. Promise it. Will you promise?" he says, trying to look at her face, with a begging tone.

She nods, unconvincingly. "Okay."

"Thanks, Uniqua... I knew I could count on you," he says, relieved.

Not too long afterwards, Uniqua steps out of a lift into a corridor of the hotel. She walks to the door of one of the rooms, glances to both sides and knocks on the door. A moment later, the door opens slightly and Austin peers through the opening. Upon spotting Uniqua, he opens the door in a shock. "Uniqua! What..."

"Hi, Austin," she says, a bit unsure.

"You're... I _knew_ I had heard your voice earlier today, but... you're _here_? Where have you been all this time?" he says, in disbelief. "What have you been doing?"

"I'm sorry for not letting you know earlier on," she says. He quickly steps out of the way so she can walk in. "Really, but..."

"I've been worried sick all this time," he says, with a graver tone.

"I'm sorry, Austin," she replies, "I didn't mean to do that... but the greatest thing just happened to me, you know! These last weeks have been wonderful!"

Not knowing exactly how to react, he scratches his head. "What happened?"

"Tyrone invited me to travel with him. He simply asked me one day if I wanted to go with him, and I said yes! He has taken me almost everywhere!" she speaks, gesturing and smiling, "I've never had such a great time before!"

Austin's eyes are slightly wide, and his face is blank with shock. He tries to recompose himself after a moment, clearing his throat. "Uh, so... you've been with him all this time?"

"Yes," she says, with the same enthusiasm as before. "I really wanted to enjoy this as much as I could, and I have! And that's why I decided not to talk to anyone back in town... you know, I didn't want to be reminded of my work, or anything... But I'm glad to see you again, Austin! I really wanted to speak to you again and know that everything's still fine."

"Yeah... everything is fine," he replies, almost emotionless. "It was great to see you again, Uniqua..."

"Alright... now, I'm sorry, but I _really_ have to get going, okay?" she says. He silently nods in response, and she steps back to the door. "I'll see you later, then. Bye, Austin!"

"Bye," he mutters.

Tasha is distressed, trying to look through some papers on her desk, but Austin makes her lose her concentration. He's pacing back and forth around the room, huffing and puffing.

"Can you believe that?" he hisses. "Tyrone takes Uniqua out for a trip! Simply doesn't tell anyone and disappears with her!" He slaps his thighs and stops. "I knew I could expect anything from him, but how could I ever _dream_ that he'd do something _that_ vile?"

"Well, he didn't commit any crime, did he?" Tasha says, looking a little disoriented, even.

"But who knows now what kinds of things he made her tell him? What kind of information she might have given to him?" he says. "Of course, with Tyrone being friendly and gentlemanly like that, it wouldn't take long for her to start trusting him and telling all sorts of things about me! And worse, it'd be easy to start manipulating her _against_ me! Can you even imagine the things he might have put in her head?"

"She went in to say hello to you," Tasha says. "Looks like she still likes you."

"Still likes me, _until when_?" he shoots back. "When is he going to twist her mind for good, eh? It's only a matter of time, you see?"

He paces towards his desk and supports himself on it, sighing deeply.

"And what are you going to do about it?" she says, unsure of herself.

"I don't know," he responds, "but I _can't_ let it go on any further... How could I _possibly_ convince her to completely stop this?" he says, getting up and facing Tasha. "What kind of reason could I give her, anyway?"

"Well..." She scratches her head, looks around the room and sighs.

"This requires an immediate measure," he says, immediately turning away and walking towards a door. Tasha sits down and shakes her head, with worry. Austin moves into a small communications room and turns on a radio. After a few moments while he tries to make contact, he starts speaking.

"This is Austin speaking here. Listen, I need you to prepare your troops and arrange an assault; a _large_ scale assault."

Tasha's is staring at her desk, motionless, in disbelief. For a moment, she can't hear anything.

"Yes, just get them prepared," he goes on. "Do _not_ send out an attack. We are moving immediately for the base. I'll order the attack personally. Await further instructions. Over and out."

Austin appears through the door. Tasha stares at him, without a clear reaction. He picks up his briefcase from the desk and moves towards her.

"Austin, I'm sorry to talk to you like this," she says, standing up, "but are you _really_ aware of what you're doing? Our troops never got even close to a village before, and we never involved civilians in a fight. And now you want to invade _London_, simply because of Uniqua? Are you aware of the potentially catastrophic consequences of that action?"

"Tasha, this is a risk we'll have to take," he says. "Having a reporter like Uniqua against us is _not_ a risk we can afford."

"Yes," she says, sighing. "What if... what about the danger of... of harming her?"

Austin stops, with his hand on the doorknob, looking strangely solemn. "If Uniqua gets hurt, I'll put an end to everything we're doing."

It's now early evening, and Tyrone is walking into the hotel lobby. His cell phone rings, and he calmly picks it up and answers it. "Hello?"

"Mr. Tyrone?" the voice on the other end says. It's Pablo, nervous and frantic. "It's me, Pablo!"

"Oh, Pablo?" Tyrone says. "What's the matter?"

"Where are you?" he yells back. "Where are you right now? What city? What country?"

"Why? Is there something wrong? I'm in London," Tyrone says. "What's the problem?"

"Oh, dear..." Pablo paces around the phone, wiping his forehead. "You have to get out of there _immediately_. Take Uniqua too. You must leave right now. The Red Army's troops are advancing towards London. Our intelligence intercepted orders from the army's commanders to invade the city. I have no idea why, but they're going in. They might get there in a very short while."

"Why would they do that?" Tyrone says, moving towards a corner, covering the mouthpiece discreetly. "They never attacked a city before, let alone a capital."

"Our intelligence will keep on working on that," Pablo says, "but you must leave right away!"

"I will, Pablo. Thanks for warning me," he answers.

"No need to thank me. Also... call me whenever you reach somewhere safe."

"Sure will. I'll get going now." Tyrone puts down the phone and moves towards a lift.

Uniqua is in her room when Tyrone knocks. She opens the door and pokes her head trough the opening. "Tyrone?"

"Uniqua, pack up your stuff," he says, almost sternly. "Now. We have to leave."

Her eyes widen. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I'll explain to your later," Tyrone replies. "I'll be back in five minutes."

He moves out. She closes the door and pauses for a second.

Sure enough, a little more than five minutes later, Tyrone was back, knocking on the door. Seconds later, Uniqua opened it.

"Are you ready?" he said.

"Almost!" she replied, while she threw a few last items in her suitcase and closed it. She picked it up, grabbed her purse and left the room. Tyrone closed and locked the door, and both of them paced towards a lift.

"What's going on, Tyrone? Is there something wrong?" she asks.

He sighs, with a slight tremble of worry. "I've been informed the Red Army is on their way to attack London."

Her eyes widen and her jaw drops somewhat. Her pace even halts a little because of the shock. "Are you serious? Why would they do that?"

"I have no idea," he says, a bit more nonchalantly than before. He reaches the lift and nearly slams the "up" button. While he waits, with his arms folded and right foot tapping with impatience, she breathes heavily and wipes her brow.

"Be calm, Uniqua," he says. "I have it all sorted out. We'll be safe."

"Yeah, that's nice," she replies, "but..."

He glances at her, but says nothing. He could see the worry on her face, so she didn't even need to finish the sentence. Just then, the lift doors opened. Both of them rushed inside.

Less than a minute later, they stepped out of the lift near the very top of the building, and climbed a couple of steps towards the rooftop, where a helicopter was landed, with its blades spinning. They rushed towards it, and Tyrone opened the door. They climbed into the helicopter and he closed the door, and seconds later, it took off.

Austin is standing by the radio, inside a communications room. Tasha is sitting by a big, circular table. There's nobody else there. She observes him, while he exchanges brief words through the radio. Eventually, he removes the headset and turns towards her. "They have just entered the city. The attack is beginning."

She sighs, with her elbows on the table and her head supported on her hands, visibly concerned, but with nothing to say.

Tyrone's helicopter is already far from London, landing next to the landing strip of a small airport. As it touches the ground, Tyrone and Uniqua open the door and leap from it. They rush towards a small airplane that's waiting for them. Within a few seconds, the plane starts and taxis towards the strip. Soon, it takes off.

Nearly an hour later, Austin is still communicating through the radio, in a nervous tone. Tasha just observes him.

"What, did you expect her to come out running for you to find her?" he says. "It's still early! Just keep on searching. You'll find her sometime. Over."

He stands by for a moment, hearing something. Tasha's gaze switches between him and the table, and her face shows no sign of enthusiasm at all.

"Well, contact me whenever something _relevant_ happens," he scoffs. "I'll be right here. Over and out."

Austin puts the headset down, but remains there for a moment.

"No trace of Uniqua?" she says, more as a derisive rhetoric than an actual question. He sighs.

"I'd be surprised if there were any already," he shoots back, turning around. "They can take their time. I'll be waiting, and the only outcome I'll accept is finding Uniqua."

She shakes her head, weakly, staring at the table. "And what if they don't find her?"

"They'll _have_ to," he says, wiping his face. "And until then, I'll have an aspirin."

Tyrone's plane is already flying overseas, far away from London. He sits staring outside the window, with Uniqua sitting in front of him, across a small table. As he looks at her, he realises she's sleeping on her seat.

"What do you mean, you haven't found her yet?" Austin speaks at the headset, after many hours of waiting. "Keep on searching! Look into every house and every building. They _are_ there, somewhere. Over and out."

He puts the headset down, nearly throwing it on the radio machine, and moves towards a chair by the table, next to Tasha, and sits down. His head sinks into his hands.

"Maybe they're not there, anymore," Tasha says, finally. "Maybe they managed to flee."

"But _how_?" he replies, almost in desperation. "How he was supposed to know about the assault?"

She feels she can't say anything that won't make Austin more annoyed.

"I can't believe I did this," he sighs. "This was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. How I could not consider the risks involved, I have no idea... And you even tried to stop me, Tasha... but I guess I'll just have to deal with it, now."

In Tyrone's office, Pablo is sitting in front of Tyrone's desk. Through one of the screens, he's communication with Tyrone.

"Are you safe now?" he says, with an urgent, yet hushed tone, as if someone might be hearing him. "Where are you?"

"I'm not far from there," Tyrone replies, with his laptop on a desk. He's wearing a pair of headphones, so he can hear Pablo through the computer. "We are both fine and safe. We managed to get away from there in time."

"Thank goodness," Pablo says, with a sigh of relief.

"But tell me more about it," Tyrone goes on. "What happened in London? Did you find out _why_ they attacked?"

"Well, it was pretty much a disaster. The army went in, caused a huge mess, but nobody knows why. And that includes us," Pablo says. "We have found nothing about it. They're annoyingly secretive about it... in fact, it's almost like they're ashamed of it."

"That's just too strange," Tyrone says. "The Red Army would _not_ attack without reason, let alone a whole city. If there was anything there that they wanted, they'd have already taken and everybody would know..."

"Exactly," Pablo replies. "And if there was anything related to the Blue Army in London that would attract their attention, _we_ would know. The only thing there was _you_, and Austin didn't know you were there."

"No, he... did not..." His voice trails off, as he glances at Uniqua, who's sitting far from him on the table, having coffee.

"Besides, they wouldn't be dumb enough to attack _London_ just to go after you. That'd be insanity, and if they wanted _you_, they'd have attacked New York ages ago."

Tyrone's eyes narrow a little, and for a moment, he's oblivious to the laptop screen. "... yeah. But anyway, keep me informed about _everything_ you find out."

"Okay, Tyrone... take care," Pablo says.

"Thanks. Talk to you later," Tyrone replies. He closes the communication window and scratches his head, while he observes Uniqua.

"Any news about it?" she asks him.

"No really," Tyrone says, without much confidence.

"That's so frightening," she goes on. "Why would they do that? I didn't imagine they were capable of attacking a whole city, without warning–"

"Uniqua, you haven't talked to Austin while we were there, have you?"

She stops, and her expression remains unchanged for a moment. "What? Why... why are you asking me that, now?"

His eyes narrow down. "You _did_ talk to him, didn't you?"

Uniqua gets up, distressed. "What does this have to do with this whole problem? You're not suggesting that..."

"Uniqua," he exclaims. "I _asked_ you not to talk to him. You _promised_ me you wouldn't. I said you had to trust me, Uniqua... why did you..."

"You're suggesting that _that_ was the reason for what happened?" she says. Her face is contorted with shock. "What are you thinking? What do you think you're saying?"

"This is _not_ a joke, Uniqua, I'm serious," he says.

"Well, what in the world does this mean? The Red Army attacks London just because I talked to Austin? What the heck _is_ going on with you?"

"You... you're not getting it," he says, stuttering.

"What does Austin have to do with the Red Army? Are they, what, jealous or something?" she says with a snide smile, as if trying to hold back her anger.

"Uniqua... Austin _owns_ the Red Army."

Her snide smile began to turn into disbelief. "Tyrone, what are you talking about? Can you be _serious_ for a moment?"

"I am serious," he says. "I said it. Austin owns the Red Army. And I own the Blue Army."

Judging by her lack of visible reaction, she doesn't know whether to be in disbelief or in shock.

"You mean... you have been battling _each other_ all this time?" Her mouth quivers a little. "Why? What's the point?"

He sighs, shaking his head. "It's not something you'd understand, Uniqua."

"You're darn right; I don't understand _at all_. It makes no sense to me!"

Tyrone steps away from her, dejected, but still listening.

"You're involved in a _war_ with him. You're feeding and waging such a horrible thing that..." She sighs, resigned. "I don't get it. Doesn't it fill you with shame? I know it fills _me_ with shame for being _involved_ in such atrocity!"

"I am _sorry_, Uniqua," he says. "I didn't want this to happen to you."

"This isn't just about me, you know," she replies, sternly. "The _whole world_ is involved in this. London just got attacked! And why? Because I _talked_ to the _owner_ of the Red Army... I'm sorry, but it still makes no sense to me."

"Look, Uniqua," he says, turning towards her. He tries to be firm, but he can't. "I'm... I'm trying to apologise, and... I just... don't want you to be mad at me. I thought we were friends!"

"I thought you were the greatest friend I ever had _and_ the greatest guy I knew," she said, turning strangely solemn. "But I hate to think that the greatest guy I know is a guy who's responsible for such a brutal, horrendous thing."

Tyrone sighs and looks at the floor. He wipes his face and his eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Tyrone, but I just don't want this anymore."

She heads towards her suitcase and grabs it. Tyrone observes her, worried, as she puts her hand on the doorknob.

"Where are you going?"

Uniqua looks at him, without a hint of emotion. "I'm going home."

She opens the door and walks out, shutting it behind her. Tyrone sits on the chair, trembling. He stares at the door, without reaction. Suddenly, he turns towards his laptop.

Austin and Tasha are in an office, but not in their headquarters. It is darker, has fewer items, no windows, and two simple desks with computers. Tasha is slumped on her desk, her arms around her head, covering her face. Judging by the subtle snoring noise, she's sleeping. Austin looks annoyed at his screen, moving the mouse constantly, until a little sound coming from the speaker calls his attention. He opens a communication window, and Tyrone's face appears on it. Austin's eyes open wide with shock.

"Uniqua knows about everything," Tyrone says in a dull, yet aggressive monotone. "She knows exactly what's going on, and it's _your fault_. You are going to _pay for this_."

The connection ends, and Austin is left there, shocked and puzzled. Tasha wakes up, but can barely get her head up to see him, or even open her eyes because of the light. "Did Tyrone just speak to you?" she says in a completely croaky voice.

"Yes... and it wasn't good news at all," he replies. He glances at her and notices her tiredness, and just then notices _his own_ tiredness. "I think we should better get going now."

He gets up and walks towards her. She moves only barely enough so she can glance at him. He reaches out his hand to her.

"Come on," he says, "I'll take you to a decent place to sleep."

Tasha grabs his hand and he helps her up. She is less dozy, but her eyelids are still heavy.

"I'm sorry for making you get through all of this... I should have listened to you," he says, sighing. "I need to pay more attention to you... I'm sorry."

She takes a small breath to talk, but eventually just nods to him. He leads her to the door, then, and they leave.

The following day, Uniqua is back on the newspaper. She's on her computer, tapping the keyboard frantically, without taking her eyes from the screen; not even the noise and movement around her can distract her. But for a moment, she halts, her eyes fixed on the screen, but her hands hovering above the keys. She reaches out for the mouse and opens up an e-mail program, and after navigating through her messages, she finds a big number of image files. Upon opening them, she's faced with photos of her trip with Tyrone. She starts flicking through them, and as she goes, her face turns less and less stern. Eventually, her hands are trembling and her breath quivers.

"Did you _have_ to tell her?" Pablo says, as Tyrone looks through a stack of papers and reports on his desk.

"... I don't even know anymore," Tyrone replies. "I don't remember exactly how it went..."

"Well, then... you mean, you forgot completely what happened?" Pablo says, with a tone of disbelief.

"Uh... not exactly," Tyrone says. "I remember... I realised that the only sensible reason why Austin would have attacked London is that he found out about me and Uniqua, and the only way this could have happened is if she had spoken to him... He was in London, too, and she saw him in the hotel lobby. I _asked_ her not to talk to him, she even _promised_ she wouldn't... I just wanted to know for sure whether it was her fault or not." He wipes her face heavily. "I mean, that is, it would _not_ have been her fault anyway. Attacking London was an atrocity, and Uniqua wasn't responsible for it..."

He sighs, as he stumbles through the words. Pablo's look of impatience made him even more nervous.

"Anyway, yes, I just wanted to know whether she _did_ talk to him, and I realised she did... but she also thought I was, I dunno, joking with her, or trying to make a fool out of her, for suggesting things, and... well, I had to tell her the truth. I didn't want her to think I was lying, or making fun of her... so she got angry. She fought with me and left. But it _is_ Austin's fault. I mean, ordering his troops to attack _London_? Just because Uniqua was hanging out with me? What kind of stupid jealousy is that?"

"Maybe he had other reasons," Pablo ponders. "Did you actually _ask_ him whether that was the case?"

"He had _no other reasons_, because there are no other reasons he could have possibly had," Tyrone says, somewhat impatient. "Intelligence can't get any information. Probably the Red Army is so dumbfounded at the whole affair and they don't want to talk. I mean, we fled before the attack... and that was all thanks to you, by the way... I think I and Uniqua owe our lives to you, and to the intelligence... but anyway, they went through all of that and did not find us. Where do you think their morale is by now?"

Pablo rubs his chin. "With all due respect, that sounds like a bit of a stretch... but I don't doubt it. But let's not jump to conclusions. Who knows what goes on in Austin's head? I somehow think he would not attack London if he wasn't absolutely sure he'd get away with it... You know, I _really_ blew it while I was in control. I wasted two operation and causes massive losses. Maybe the Red Army is taking some advantage of that?... I'm _so terribly sorry_, Tyrone! I was... I was so nervous! I didn't know what to do, and I tried to do everything at once! I'm so... frustrated with myself and... embarrassed."

"I don't see the connection between both things. I honestly think it was a terrible mistake on Austin's part, and... a much, much worse mistake than yours, Pablo. Also... it wasn't your fault. You didn't blow it. _I_ acted irrationally by leaving you on your own and ignoring you, dismissing you and letting so much pressure weigh in on you. You actually did amazingly well, regarding the London attack. You saved our lives, Pablo. If it weren't for you..." He sighs, heavily. "You did well, Pablo. I'm deeply, profoundly thankful."

"It's been a pleasure to help you," he replies amiably. "Anyway... What about Uniqua? Is she back on the newspaper?"

"I think so," he says, thinking. "She told me she..."

His expression changes suddenly. His hands start shaking.

"Oh, dear, the newspaper! She said she had promised them a smashing story for when she came back."

Pablo is confused. "And...?"

Tyrone slams his hand on the desk. "What do you think she's going to write about? Global warming?" He rubs his forehead and shakes his head. "She's going to throw us in the gutter for this whole thing. She'll throw the filth in the fan! The press and the readers will go wild with it!"

"You mean, she'll talk about the war?" Pablo asks, with scepticism. "How? She can't prove anything! She has no evidence!"

"Who _cares_?" Tyrone yells. "She'll put it on the newspaper! You don't need any evidence to do that and cause a fuss!" Tyrone shakes his head. "It even looks like you don't know anything about the press."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Pablo says, raising his palms towards him. "So what are you going to do?"

Tyrone sighs deeply. "I'll need some cooperation."

Austin's computer produces a notification sound. A connection is incoming. He glances at Tasha, who's working with little enthusiasm, and opens the screen. Tyrone appears in it. His expression is nowhere as ominous as it was the previous time.

"We're in danger," Tyrone says. "Uniqua is working on the newspaper and she's going to destroy us. She'll publish everything she knows."

"_We_ are in danger?" Austin says with a snide half-smile. "Wasn't it _you_ she fought with?"

"She's disgusted with me for doing the exact same thing _you_ did," Tyrone says. "Why do you think she should _not_ be disgusted with you?"

Austin rubs his chin. "Because she likes me more?"

"Oh, she sure does," Tyrone says, returning the snide half-smile, "especially after _you_ took her around the world and made enjoy herself so much."

"She _did not_ tell you she's upset with both of us," Austin says, "and you are just speculating. You're using that logic of yours to lure _me_ into helping _you_ out of that mess; because you know I _won't_ do that."

"So you'd rather take your chances, then?" Tyrone says, narrowing his eyes. "That's either too much ego or too much stupidity."

"I know Uniqua for a long time," Austin retorts, losing his temper, "and I _know_ what she'd be capable of doing to me."

"You haven't heard the things she said, Austin. You have _no idea_ of how she feels now. Matter of fact, you never did."

Austin nearly leaps at the screen, but makes an effort to relax his muscles and sit back. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Uniqua is _devastated_," Tyrone says. "And it's _your_ fault. _You_ attacked London. _You_ put her in danger! What do you think she's going to say about you? You send your troops after her and she forgives you; meanwhile I _save her life_ and she attacks me? Gee, you really know Uniqua a lot, don't you?"

Austin wipes his face with both hands and breathes heavily. "What do you _want_?"

"Collaboration," Tyrone says, almost if the argument had never happened. "We're both in danger, and we can help each other. Both of us need to put pressure on the newspaper, otherwise it won't be as efficient."

Austin clasps his hands together and looks straight at the camera on top of the screen. "You have my collaboration."

The morning after, Uniqua walks into the living room of her house, wearing a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She goes to the front door and opens it slightly, peeking at the floor, where the newspaper is. She pulls it inside and closes the door.

As quickly as she can, she unfolds the paper and looks at the front cover, but her face quickly turns into puzzlement. She turns the pages, looking for something, and as the pages begin to fall to the floor while she looks, her face shows nothing but frustration.

Later on, she arrives at her desk in her workplace. Over the keyboard of her computer is a small envelope, with her name scribbled on it. She sits down and picks up the envelope, tearing its side and pulling a small scrap of paper from inside it. After reading it, she remains pensive in her chair, for a moment.

It's still morning when Uniqua is standing by the Conservatory Water, in the Central Park. She glances to all sides, from time to time, clearly waiting for someone. She doesn't notice the figure walking closer to her, slowly, to her right. She only notices him when he speaks to her.

"You should be more careful with mysterious notes like those."

Caught by fright, she looks at the mysterious figure. The antlers give his identity away.

"You got lucky this time," Tyrone says, "but you never know."

"You've got some nerve to do this, after all that happened," she says, with a frown.

"Well, I'm a businessman. You shouldn't expect any less," he replies, with a timid smile. "Will you, at least, let me try to talk to you?"

She shrugs, nonchalantly. "I guess there's nothing else I can do."

"Look, I don't want to hurt you, Uniqua," he says, approaching her a little and looking directly at her face. "I just don't want you to be upset with me anymore. I don't care about anything else right now. All that matters is your feelings, and I don't want to hurt them... not again... not after what happened to your news story."

She gasps, her face contorted with indignation. "I _knew_ it was you! A person has to be very vile to do such a thing!"

"Well, you can't blame exclusively me," he says, with his palms lifted towards her. "Austin also collaborated."

She shakes her head with disgust. "Well, I shouldn't be shocked. People who aren't ashamed of waging this war should not be ashamed of interfering with _my career_, right?"

"It was a last resort, Uniqua," he says, too defensively for a businessman. "We had to protect our reputations; preserve our image; this is _also_ important to us, Uniqua... besides, I did my best to make sure your career wouldn't be ruined. I _do_ care about you."

"I _don't want_ to hear that again from you, Tyrone," she says. A small silence follows. "I _still_ despise what you're both doing. How can people be so egocentric and self-absorbed to promote such an atrocity, just because of a... stupid rivalry?"

"That's... that's the way things go, Uniqua," he replies, resigned. "When you're in a business like this, it is _crucial_ to display your superiority above everyone else. That's what business is all about... And that goes from having the nicest suit, the flashiest façade to having the catchiest commercial jingle... and having the best paintball army in the world _is_ a constant worry to–"

She nearly chokes as she hears that. Tyrone stops on his tracks and observes her as she snickers and tries hard to control herself.

"What did... what did you just _say_?" she asks.

"I said business is all about showing how superior–"

"No, _after_ that... about having the best _what_ in the world?"

He pauses, with a look of puzzlement. "Um, having the best paintball army in the world–"

She cracks up, putting her hand on her stomach as she laughs hysterically. He just watches her, without reaction, as she straightens up, still snickering, and wipes a tear of laughter from her eye.

"You mean... all this talk about war, and armies, and attacks... was all about _paintball_?"

"Well, of course... you thought it was a _real_ war?" he said. "How... Did you _really_ think that Austin and I would wage a _real_ war against each other? I can't believe you even considered that! We're not _that_ unscrupulous, for Smith's sake."

"What did you expect me to think?" she says. "You were spot on when you said I wouldn't understand, because it sounds just silly to have a... _paintball_ war against each other, especially with such proportions."

He sighs, looking at the ground. "So that means... it was all just a misunderstanding, after all."

"I guess..." She looks at him, somewhat resigned. "I'm sorry about that. I made wrong assumptions about you. I jumped to wrong conclusions and... I suppose _I_ hurt your feelings, too... and I insulted you. I would have _never_ done that if I knew what this whole thing was about."

Tyrone nods. "Don't worry. You shouldn't feel guilty. I just... want to know if... we can still be friends, now?"

She puts her hands on her hips and faces him, as her self-assurance seems to miraculously return. "Well, I'm still _not_ exactly happy at what happened in London. I do like you a real lot, but I also like Austin, and I want him as a friend just as I want you as a friend. So I won't tolerate being in the middle of such a nasty, childish feud."

He's taken by surprise, and doesn't seem to know what to say. "So you're saying..."

"Either you count me out," she completes him, "or you forget that endless bickering with him. It's all up to you; the _both_ of you."

She takes a couple of steps away, still looking at him.

"And you can tell me as soon as you've made your choice."

Uniqua leaves him there, and he watches her as she disappears from sight.

Early afternoon, Austin receives yet another incoming connection. Sure enough, Tyrone appears on the communication window when he opens it up.

"I spoke to Uniqua," Tyrone says. "It seems the whole fight was a misunderstanding, and she's willing to come in terms with us..."

Austin notices the way his sentence is left hanging. "... but?"

Tyrone takes a deep breath. "She doesn't want to be in the middle of our rivalry. In short, he wants _us_ to come in terms with each other."

Austin gives a sideways look at the screen, with a mix of mistrust and interest. "So... what are you going to do about it?"

"_Me_?" Tyrone retorts. "Yeah, sure, as if _I_ was the one who attacked London out of pure jealousy."

"Well, but it wasn't _me_ who took Uniqua away and disappeared without a trace!" he shoots back, irritated.

"It wasn't my fault if she _wanted_ to come with me," Tyrone says, "and if she didn't tell you or anyone else, it's because _she_ didn't want to. I didn't forbid her from doing that!"

"Yeah, I can only imagine how you told her it should be better if she at least let us know where she was, since we were all _worried sick_ about her."

"What can I do _now_ about that?" Tyrone says. "You have to talk to _her_ about it. All I know is that she definitely _jumped_ at the opportunity of going out with me. It's not my fault if you never cared enough to do a similar thing with her."

"Oh, great," Austin replies, angrily. "Now _you_ are the best person to question my feelings for Uniqua."

"I'm just stating a fact," Tyrone answers with a sly nonchalance.

Austin sighs, and clasps his hands together. "You _don't know_ what you're talking about. You can't say I don't care about Uniqua, because you _don't know_ what you're talking about."

"Yeah," Tyrone replies, cynical. "I don't know that you _attacked London_ because of her, no, I don't."

"We're talking about_ my feelings_ for Uniqua," Austin retorts, angry. "I've been her friends for years, and you met her, what? A couple of weeks ago? How do you think you know what I feel for her? Just because you took her on a trip doesn't mean you're the hero of her life. She certainly doesn't forget all the things I've done for her, way before you even knew she existed."

"Oh, yeah... things like, invading _the capital of England_," Tyrone says, "and–"

"Will you _stop_ talking about that?" Austin nearly shouts.

"Only when you admit it was a stupid thing to do," Tyrone replies. "Come on, it was an atrocious idea, you know about it."

"It wasn't a stupid idea!" Austin says, defensively. "How on Earth should I know what kinds of ideas you were putting in her head? You meet her one day, and on the next day you disappear with her. Am I supposed to think she just really likes you all that much?"

Tyrone glares at the camera, narrowing his eyes. "What are you implying?"

"She's a _reporter_, and you know perfectly well the power that she has to influence people," Austin says. "Approaching her that way, it would be just a matter of time before you could put her against me and watch my reputation sink."

Tyrone gives a sly, yet insincere smile. "Funny how everything is business in your head," he says. "And you tell _me_ about how much you care about Uniqua, when for you, she's merely a reporter, an opinion forming machine. You only care about her stories and her articles, the things she writes about you. Well, guess what? I'm not like that. I'm not like _you_, Austin. You don't know me at all. And the fact that you thought _I_ would be able to do that shows a lot about you; it shows just what kinds of things _you_ would do. The fact that you could imagine me doing such a thing just shows how unscrupulous you are. _You_ would do that sort of thing, not me."

Austin clasps his hands and smiles at the camera, with a strange sort of satisfaction. "Your logic fails."

"Oh, _sure_," Tyrone retorts.

"You're my rival. I'm _supposed_ to expect the lowest things possible from you," Austin says.

"Yeah, like sending my troops to London, searching for her..."

"_Stop_ bringing this up all the time," Austin shouts.

"I won't," Tyrone says, diplomatically, "because _you_ know how big a mistake it was, and how much it shows you don't care about her happiness and her safety. You're _no one_ to tell me about liking Uniqua. Just going around with her, I could see clear as day that she had never enjoyed herself so much before. The things she told me about her life, the things she likes and dreams about, it's clear to me she _never_ had anyone to talk to about it. It was a short interval of time, but it was enough. She never had a friend like me. And _you_ want to tell me how little I know about her? I am her _friend_, Austin. Accept that."

"Your problem, Tyrone," Austin says, "is that, unlike what you think, you are _not_ the greatest guy on Earth or the only important person in Uniqua's life. It doesn't matter what she told you, how much fun you had with her, you're _not_ the only person who cares for her. You can be as pretentious and egotistical as you can be, but _don't_ say what you don't know about my friendship with Uniqua. She is the most important person in my life..." A hint of sincerity shone in his eyes, as he let his defences down and looked straight at the camera with moist eyes. "... and I'll do _anything_ for her."

Tyrone nods. "So would I, Austin."

Austin's face looks more serene, and he takes a deep, relieved breath. "And that includes giving up all our differences in exchange for Uniqua's happiness?"

"Yes," Tyrone answers immediately. "Most definitely."

Austin sits back on the chair, still looking at the screen. "Meet me tomorrow morning, at the entrance of my headquarters. Bring Uniqua with you. Let's make it official."

"Fine by me," Tyrone says. "I won't be late."

"Good. I'll be waiting."

The connection is closed. Pablo is staring at Tyrone, in disbelief.

"You're _seriously_ doing that?" he asks.

"Why not?" Tyrone replies. "I already told you once, Pablo... Sometimes, when you feel like doing something, you just have to go right ahead and _do it_. And I'm doing it for my friend... I don't see why it should be a bad idea."

Pablo nods, rubbing his chin. "Well... it just sounds like a very unlikely decision, but I see nothing wrong with it."

"Great," Tyrone says, smiling.

"So both of you are putting an end to your rivalry out of a common agreement, because of a reporter," Tasha says, while Austin looks at the ceiling, with an odd, contented smile. "I never thought _that_ is how it would end."

"You know, fine Miss Tasha," he says, getting up from his chair, "it's funny when the best decision you can make is right in front of your nose, yet you just can't see it. And when you _do_, you wonder why it took you so long." He stops in front of her desk. "Also, she's not 'a reporter'. She is... my _second_ best friend."

"Yeah," she replies, smiling, "the first one being yourself."

He chuckles, shaking his head. She smiles, amiably.

Sure enough, next morning, Austin and Tasha are waiting by the door of their company headquarters. Eventually, an expensive white car arrives and stops in front of it. Tyrone, Pablo and Uniqua step out of it, and the three of them head towards Austin and Tasha. Tyrone stands right before him, while the others stand aside.

"So, it's official," Tyrone speaks with much formality. "It's now truth that the best paintball army in the world belongs to _both_ of us."

"Yes," Austin replies, "and the greatest paint company in the country is actually two of them."

"And they can work together," Tyrone concludes, "like they were meant to from the start."

He reaches out his hand, and Austin promptly shakes it, looking straight into Tyrone's eyes.

"This is going in the news, right?" Austin asks.

"You bet!" Uniqua says.

Good thing the agreement was done just in time for a snack.


End file.
